


Dream Machine

by Not_You



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Dreams, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, For Science!, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Protective Hulk, Protectiveness, Science Boyfriends, Science Experiments, Trust, Weirdness, dream machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 09:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a kinkmeme prompt where Hulk smashes Bruce's nightmares.  I added the wrinkle of dream-viewing.  This is an OT6 (or maybe 7, I could change the tag...) universe, but the others are presumably away on business or already asleep or whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Machine

He's very small and he's safe with Mommy. It's warm here and she holds him and sings to him and it's very good. Something is cooking, and that will be good too. And then the door slams open and it's cold and Daddy is here and he's going to be angry and Bruce gets so scared...

And then Hulk is there. Just as Daddy starts to yell, storming closer to hit, Hulk grabs him and roars into his face, smashing and smashing him on the floor. Mommy is scared, but then Hulk picks them up and they all go away from smashed Daddy and the ruined house and on from there to watch unicorns graze on a meadow of clouds.

Bruce blinks awake, and chuckles sadly. "Thanks, big guy."

"Whazzat?" Tony mutters beside him.

"I was havin' a nightmare." He rolls onto his side and wraps around Tony from behind, tucking in against him from the nape of his neck to the backs of his knees. Clint mumbles and rolls into the warm spot Bruce has left, Natasha shifting to follow him.

"That sucks."

"Yeah, but the other guy showed up and took care of it."

"Awesome. Toldja he wasn't all bad."

"Yeah, yeah, gloat gloat gloat."

Still, it happens pretty often, and each of the others get to see him start to mutter and twitch and then smile and relax again, or wake up amused.

Naturally, when Reed Richards invents something that actually projects dreams, Tony begs and wheedles and pouts until Reed coughs up the schematics so he can build his own. And then of course he chases Bruce around the lab with the headset, singing "Still Alive" at him until he capitulates and puts it on. It is pretty comfortable, and by the time he goes to bed Bruce has almost forgotten that he's wearing it. A few of the others snuggle down with him, and soon enough he's asleep.

Tony waits by the projection switch, looking at the little readouts. They wobble and shift and then slide into the distinctive pattern of REM sleep. "All right," he murmurs, "it's go time." He flips the visualization switch, and they all look to the screen, fascinated. On it so far, everything is fine. Bruce is lying in a field with a dog in the sun. It's all very real and very normal, and Tony smiles to see the relative chronometer tick off a whole lazy afternoon.

Clint smiles. "Glad he's havin' a good time."

"Yeah. Much as I'd like to see the big guy clean house, I'll be a lot happier if everything stays copacetic."

"I get you," Clint agrees. Natasha kisses his cheek, and they all watch as the scene changes. For a while things are very active. Bruce has to take the cup to the factory where they make grandmothers and once he has the tree-people are very glad, but they don't have much time to thank him because everyone has to get into a boat made of bone to attend the Academy Awards. Natasha has to smile, charmed at Bruce's stammering protests that he can't go dressed like this. They haul him into the boat anyway, and dress him in green leaves as they sail down busy city streets.

The boat turns into a couch, and it's off-white at first, the color of the couch in Pepper's room at the tower, and Bruce and Pepper are sitting on it quite normally, sipping tea and speaking in Punjabi. The machine even provides subtitles, which is good because Tony is rusty and Clint is hopeless with tonal languages. The conversation makes no sense even translated, Dadaist snippets such as 'you are why purple is' and 'bicycle the flower feed.' Still, it seems to be a friendly conversation and then Tony's just thinking it's about to get _very_ friendly when the couch and the whole room and Pepper all change. It's someplace darker and warmer and lower, and the couch is a dark plaid. Bruce is tiny now, an adorable three-year-old with a mass of fluffy curls and enormous dark eyes, and he's tucked into his mother's lap, cuddling close with one chubby little hand full of her blouse.

"Oh my god, he was so fucking cute," Clint whispers, and Natasha nods.

"I haven't had baby fever in years, and yet."

Tony grimaces. "Oh man, I must really love him, because fuck my scientific curiosity and love of spectacle."

Clint puts an arm around Tony and squeezes reassuringly. "Well, he said Hulk shows up if it gets bad."

"Yeah."

And after a bit, it does get bad. Brian Banner comes to sneer at his worthless slut of a wife and little monster of a son, and just as Bruce starts to bawl in the dream and twitch in the real world, Hulk bashes through the wall. He's huge and green and scary too, but he doesn't roar. He just grabs Bruce's father and walks back out through the hole with him. Suddenly they're watching split-screen, Hulk ruthlessly bashing Bruce's father into paste while his mother rocks and soothes him. After a while the screen merges again, Hulk going in and scooping them both up, heading out again. He carries them a long way, the world changing as he does. It becomes a steaming, emerald-green jungle, and all three of them settle in an enormous vine hammock. Hulk lazily rocks it with one toe against the ground, and they watch brilliantly plumed birds dance in circles high above.

It stays there until it fades to black, REM giving over to the next phase of sleep. Tony switches the screen off and stroke's Bruce's hair, his throat tight. Natasha kisses his cheek. "Feel better knowing?"

"Yeah," Tony whispers, "because that's what I'd do for him if I could."


End file.
